


you've got my love to keep you warm

by elisela



Series: the trees of vermont [18]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Shower Sex, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/pseuds/elisela
Summary: “The co-op says that keeping that house at fifty-five degrees—““Fifty-five?” His mouth drops open—Buck’s heard him complain about the cold for seven years now, and he turns the temperature down to fucking fifty-five? “That’s hardly above freezing,” he says—says, not whines, because Eddie is thirty-five years old and he does not whine. “Get out and turn it up.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: the trees of vermont [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790356
Comments: 4
Kudos: 174





	you've got my love to keep you warm

He wakes up to an empty bed, pushes himself up and immediately drops back down, burrowing deeper into the covers and pulls the thick duvet over his head. _Fuck_ , the house is freezing, worse than normal. He doesn’t know where Buck has gone, mourns the loss of his body heat and sticks a hand out, groping around the nightstand for his phone.

**Eddie:** Cold  
**hunky husband:** Don’t look at your weather app  
**Eddie:** Stop changing your name in my phone and get up here  
**hunky husband:** u don’t think i’m hunky??? :(

He rolls his eyes, thumbs over to the weather app and curses. 

**Eddie:** I’m moving to a beach in Mexico  
**hunky husband:** I told you not to look at the weather app, you big baby.  
**hunky husband:** Come downstairs  
**Eddie:** I’m not leaving this bed.  
**Eddie:** I’ll freeze to death.

He tosses the phone down at his side and tries to tuck the duvet around him more tightly, which works for all of a minute before it’s being yanked off him and he yelps, grabbing for it.

“Rise and shine, baby,” Buck says brightly.

He reaches out and grabs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Buck’s—shorts? What the fuck?—and pulling him down. “Fuck off and warm me up,” he says. “It’s five degrees outside, what the hell are you wearing?”

“If you’d ever exercise—” Buck twists away when Eddie pinches him. “Oh, just for that you’re not joining me in the shower,” he says, and laughs when Eddie scrambles off the bed after him.

He catches Buck around the waist and presses into him, resting his head against his shoulder blade and nuzzling in despite his damp, sweaty skin. Buck’s hands come up and rest on top of his; Eddie feels their wedding bands click together as Buck squeezes his hands. There are goosebumps on his skin, and his knees knock into the back of Buck’s legs as they shuffle towards the bathroom but he keeps holding on, not wanting to let him go. He hears the water running already, and when Buck gets the door open, they’re met with a wall of steam and Eddie sinks into the warmth.

“Genius,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to Buck’s bare skin. “This is why you’re the one with the degree.”

Buck’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “Yeah, that B.A. in Husband Pampering is really paying off.”

“Sure is,” Eddie says, stepping back to pull his clothes off. He rolls his eyes and gathers up the shorts and boxer briefs that Buck leaves in a pile on the floor, and tosses them into the laundry hamper before stepping into the shower and immediately wrapping his arms around Buck again. He hums and melts against him, twisting easily when Buck pivots so he’s under the spray. “Why’s it so fucking cold in this house?”

“Because when you got the heating bill last month you said you weren’t made of money and the co-op was bleeding you dry,” Buck says, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to see the smile on his face. “So I turned down the thermostat a few degrees.”

He pulls back at that, pushing Buck’s shoulder until he can look him in the eye. “You did _what_?” 

“The co-op says that keeping that house at fifty-five degrees—“

“Fifty- _five_?” His mouth drops open—Buck’s heard him complain about the cold for seven years now, and he turns the temperature down to fucking fifty-five? “That’s hardly above freezing,” he says— _says_ , not whines, because Eddie is thirty-five years old and he does not whine. “Get out and turn it up.”

Buck laughs and pulls him forward, and Eddie allows him because there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll ever willingly refuse being pressed against his husband, especially when Buck’s strong, extremely capable hands are wandering down his back, sending a different type of shiver down his spine as his fingers stroke gently against Eddie’s skin. “You can handle a little cold,” he says, “you’ve got my love to keep you warm,” and then he slaps Eddie’s ass and snorts.

“To think I was going to let you fuck me,” Eddie says, and Buck laughs helplessly against his shoulder. “You don’t get to now.”

“You’ll change your mind,” Buck says. “I have plans for you, me, and that rug in front of the fireplace tonight.”

“At least I won’t freeze to death,” he says, pressing forward and turning Buck into the wall—if he gets a certain pleasure at the hiss Buck lets out from being pressed against the cold tile, it’s only because he deserves the revenge. Buck’s fingers trail across the base of his spine, and Eddie pulls him closer, bites just below his ear before he whispers “if you keep me warm, maybe I won’t make you wait until tonight.”

He pulls back enough to see the way Buck’s eyes light up at the challenge and is not at all surprised when Buck pulls him in for a kiss, holding onto his hip with one hand and wrapping his other arm around Eddie’s waist to keep them close as he slides his leg in between Eddie’s. Eddie catches his bottom lip and bites down, rocking himself against Buck’s thigh and groaning, hands groping at his husband’s arms. Sometimes he’s still stunned at how badly he _wants_ Buck, how quickly he can get to the edge with him, like the past several years of domesticity has disappeared and he’s back to seeing Evan Buckley standing shirtless in his backyard, watching the way sweat rolled down his chest and feeling the desperate need for relief.

And now that he’s thinking about that—

Buck’s short gasps are quiet against his mouth as Eddie reaches between them and strokes them together, breath coming faster as he rocks up into Eddie’s fist, his tongue sweeping across Eddie’s lips. Buck rests his forehead against Eddie’s, eyes dropped down, and Eddie knows he’s watching how they look together, gets a thrill from the way Buck pulls back and looks at him before he groans. “Baby,” Buck says, his breath hitching, “you’re so fucking hot.”

He shudders when Buck moves and presses his hands against the cold skin on his back where the water isn’t falling, and maybe it’s difference in temperature that throws his body into overdrive or maybe it’s the way Buck bites his neck before throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he comes with a gasp; either way, Eddie loses his balance a little and stumbles forward, groans when the head of his cock drags against Buck’s stomach, and follows him over. 

He leans on Buck for a moment, tries to get his breathing under control before sliding a hand around his neck and pulling him down, and lets Buck kiss his shoulder before Eddie whispers into his ear, “baby, I’m so fucking _cold_.”

“You’re treating me like a child,” Eddie says— _says_ , not pouts, because he is thirty-five years old and needs to save the pouting for when he really wants to get his way, say, when his husband and son are ganging up on him. 

But this is not one of those times, so he just says it in a completely normal tone of voice.

“Maybe that’s because I can’t tell if it’s Eddie or Christopher begging me for something right now,” Buck says. “Eds, I swear, I just need to finish submitting these forms and I’ll go get your book. Or, you know, you could go get it.”

And leave his nest of blankets, curled up on the couch with his feet in his husband’s lap? “Or could you keep me warm like you promised.”

He knows Buck’s trying to keep his face neutral, but the corner of his mouth curves up for just a moment before he fights it back down. “I think you could make it up to the office and back,” Buck says. “Pretty sure your body heat will hold for that long.”

“Can’t risk it,” Eddie says, letting his body fall back onto the couch and picking his phone back up. “What do you want for lunch? Hen just dropped the boys off and says she’s stopping at Bobby’s on the way back and she can pick us up something if we want.”

“Just get two of whatever you want,” Buck says, and shakes his head when Eddie mutters about liver and onions. “Real nice,” he says. “Just for that, I’m not building the garage you want.”

“I’ve wanted a garage for seven years,” Eddie says, finishing the text to Hen and setting his phone on his stomach, “and every year you say okay, _now_ you’ll build it. It’s not exactly a threat anymore.”

Buck pushes Eddie’s feet off his lap and stands up, laptop dangling from one hand. “Yes, but now I submitted the permits, so you’ll actually get it. Or you will if Hen doesn’t show up with liver and onions.” He leans down and kisses Eddie’s forehead before bounding up the stairs, and Eddie grabs his phone and unlocks it.

**Eddie:** Can you pick up chocolate cake from the bakery?  
**Hen:** Can you watch Denny on Friday night?  
**Eddie:** Definitely. Two slices? And that dark hot chocolate.

He takes a screenshot and sends it to Buck, hears the chime on his phone at the same time Buck comes clattering down the stairs, and despite Buck dropping onto the other end of the couch, his phone buzzes a moment later.

**hunky husband:** aww u do love me!

He waits for Buck to toss the book to him, but Buck just pats his lap and says, “c’mere, Eds,” and helps rearrange the blankets around him after he settles his head on Buck’s lap and turns his face in, almost pressing his nose against Buck’s stomach. 

Buck reads to him, holding the book in one hand and rubbing the back of Eddie’s neck with the other, until Hen drops by with their food and stays long enough to tease Eddie about his aversion to the cold, and Buck turns on _Say Yes to the Dress_ while they eat and indulge in Eddie’s favorite trashy television past time—making fun of people for choosing ugly wedding dresses. 

He’s not sure how they end up on the “Hallmark Christmas Movies” category, but by the time the room is getting dark, Buck is sprawled out against him, sniffling suspiciously when a man wearing fatigues shows up to a school concert last minute, and Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tease him about it, just kisses his forehead and rubs his back slowly. 

But as much as he loves his husband, he does _not_ love overly sappy, poorly written Christmas movies, so he reaches for the remote when the credit rolls and turns it off. The only light comes from the fireplace, which reminds him—

“Didn’t you have plans for you and me and that rug over there?” he asks, letting his fingers wander underneath Buck’s hoodie.

“Can wait,” Buck says, snuggling closer to him and tilting his head up; Eddie feels his lips against his neck, a soft kiss pressed into his skin. “I’m nice and warm right here.”

And surprisingly, despite the bitter cold outside, Eddie is too. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ [hearteyesforbuck](http://hearteyesforbuck.tumblr.com)


End file.
